


East of The Sun

by Lydia_Pickled_Herring



Category: Darkthrone (Band), Emperor (Band), Mayhem (Band), Until the Light Takes Us (2008)
Genre: AU, Blatant Historical Innacuracy, Comedy, Gen, It's gay but it's not that gay, M/M, Really Shitty Comedy, Vikings, yo dead and Euronymous are definitely gonna hook up because it's me lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 16:36:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18098069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lydia_Pickled_Herring/pseuds/Lydia_Pickled_Herring
Summary: So, there was a slight problem. Per Ohlin was now completely bonkers, Vikernes was up to no good because he was forced to stay behind and Jarl Fuckface from the other side of the mountains discovered this new faith that he thought everyone should follow-- lest they get ye olde axe...(Norway, circa 875)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> To be completely honest... I have no idea if I'm ever gonna finish this. I'll update the relationship tags as I go along because I don't want to spoil the ending.
> 
> Did the world _need_ a black metal Viking AU? No. But I'm surprised there isn't one.
> 
> Jarl = Viking honorific
> 
> The first chapter will be posted later today..

_East of the sun and west of the moon_  
_There you shall arrive late or never_  
_To the end of the world, you are headed_  
**Ulver; Østenfor Sol Og Vestenfor Måne**  
  
.  
  
_A furore Normannorum libera nos, Domine._

«Free us from the fury of the Northmen, Lord.»

_°•°•°.... Anno 875_

So, there was a slight problem. Per Ohlin was now completely bonkers, Vikernes was up to no good because he was forced to stay behind and Jarl Fuckface from the other side of the mountains discovered this new faith that he thought everyone should follow-- lest they get ye olde axe.

"Should we go for another sacrifice to Odin?"  
"We're not going for another human sacrifice, you dipshit. If we sacrifice all the slaves, who's to say that the raiders will have more with them?"  
_"Raiders?_ They have names, you know, you ass-monkey."

"Shut up." Hissed Cheiftain Øystein Aarseth (Also known as Aarseth, the Shitless) whilst glaring out of the window, into the open sea.

Odin Almighty, wherever those stupid Viking fuckers were, Øystein just hoped they'd be back soon. Vegard Tveitan, Bård Eithun and Tomas Haugen all owed him... _big time._


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You know, the entire point capturing you was because you were supposed to be useful." Spat Øystein as Per put down his favourite rune stone and brushed his long, blond hair out of the way. He sighed, "No, Øystein, you captured me because you mistook me for a woman capable of breeding you tall offsprings." Homoerotic Vikings and awkwardness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darkthrone'll appear in the next chapter. Yes, I know the soft kitty song came out in 1937, this isn't a history lesson, it's a fanfic.

They dragged all the monks out to sea and yet, Tomas _still_ wasn't happy.

"Tomas… Tomas, _please_ don't be so brash." Said Vegard after the third hour of Tomas, who was supposed to be the leader of this raid, locking himself up inside the monastery. Tomas responded with another punch to a gilded portrait of Jesus Christ.

Vegard watched it fall to the ground, splitting in two before he decided to pace the hallways again.

He sighed loudly. The others were waiting outside and after a _(rigged!!)_ game of sticks, they decided Vegard was the only one with the balls big enough to face the snivelling baby.

Another five or so minutes of wandering around later, he came back to see that Tomas was still in the middle of a temper trantrum.

Except now he was yelling to no one in particular.

"These Englishmen," gesture here, gesture there, gesture everywhere. "Believe that the route to glory is through poverty! _Self-deprecation!"_ He shouted, red in the face as he kept waving his fists around.

_'Ah… yes, yes, it isn't as if we haven't seen this in the last three monasteries!'_ Thought Vegard, although he wasn't about to say that out loud…. At least not given Tomas' current predisposition.

Instead, he placed a gentle hand on Tomas' shoulder, which, luckily, wasn't brushed off and said, "Aye, I understand but home soil awaits. We need su--"

"Supplies which we don't have because these monks are indecadant bastards! 'Salvation through starvation'? _Fucking imbeciles!!!"_ He screamed.

Vegard watched in bewilderment as Tomas walked over, grabbed a cross with his two hands and began to repeatedly beat it across the stone walls. "Now it is US who will be the starving ones!!"

Vegard looked around nervously. It was a rather nice room though, maybe they would benefit from stealing some of Anglo-Saxon architecture. And also choosing another target since the monks were also turning out to be poor as shit. Paris, maybe?

Still though, it was the top of the tower, round and with a dome-shaped cap and it was nice.

Vegard sighed as he stole a glance out the window, waving down to the ~~_traitors_~~ FRIENDS!! standing next to the longboat.

It was a calm night, clear navy skies, perfect yellow stars…

"Vegard, what happened to your arm?" Asked Tomas, his ears suddenly perking up as he caught sight of Vegard's blood seeping into his tunic.

"This? _Æsj_ … one of the monks must have nicked me on their way down." He laughed breezily, touching the large gash that formed along his bicep. He must have not noticed it with all the adrenaline.

Tomas, on the other hand, didn't take it so well. He grabbed a broken off piece from the cross and whacked it into the stone, causing Vegard to jump. He flinched as Tomas marched over and grabbed his wounded arm, breathing heavy as he examined the gash.

"It's deep." He huffed.

"Yeah... Bård's been saying for hours that we ought to get on course to home." Vegard nodded, it was oozing blood and yet... Vegard couldn't say he actually felt it. He was glad it was there though, because now it could be used as a bargaining chip.

 

  
It took a little more convincing until Tomas finally came down with Vegard, who had taken to pinching his wound shut.

"Are you sure you will be alright?" Asked Bård as he lay out a few furs for Vegard.

"Or else?" He shrugged, resting over his side, with the wounded arm facing up. What was there to be done but get home as soon as possible?

"Aye.. I don't know. Let's just get home before it gets infected..." Bård sighed before going to help Tomas with navigation.

Vegard frowned and closed his eyes, feeling the breeze against his skin. He didn't know what he would do if the wound festered or if he didn't make it back to his beloved farm, but he couldn't afford to think of that.

 

 

Vegard didn't think he was like the other Vikings, not even Tomas, who was his close friend since childhood. Vegard enjoyed time on his farm the most, more than being a 'warrior'. He liked the feeling of waking up on his land the most, to sing and listen to the sound of his voice… It was Tomas who inspired him, this hyperactive boy who wanted glory above all. They seemed like an odd pair, with Tomas finding Vegard, one afternoon, singing by the riverside before attacking him with a wooden sword... and then continuing to ambush him with said wooden sword whenever they crossed paths. Although at first, Vegard, who liked to be left alone, fuck you very much, found him annoying, eventually, he grew to like him. And he must of liked Tomas a lot, because he ended up following him to sea, after all.

 

The next morning, Vegard woke up with a burst of searing pain and nausea. Some of the others laughed as he scrambled to the edge of the ship and puked, still half-asleep.

" _Odin...."_ Vegard moaned, clutching the side of the ship. Tomas walked up behind him and placed a hand on his back. "You okay there?" Asked Tomas, having finally calmed down from last nights piss-show. Vegard looked at him with swollen eyes.

~~_'Do I look okay, you stupid son of a bitch?'_ ~~

"About as okay as I can be." He gave Tomas a trembling thumbs up before hanging his head off the side of the ship, hoping he'd drown soon and quick.. or better yet, a shark would eat him.

You had to be a certain kind of man to enjoy this sort of lifestyle. Brave at best and blood-thirsty at worst. To deal with the smell of salt-water and other sweaty, disgusting, unwashed men day in and day out sure was something. Something... Vaguely _homoerotic_ , if Vegard was being completely honest....

 

  
" _PERRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!"_ Øystein shrieked as he stomped down the hallway.

"The answer is 'I don't know', so fuck off. Ask Varg or something." Per said right as Øystein stormed in, clutching a rune. Øystein narrowed his eyes,

"For your information, I _can't_ ask Varg." Because Varg has been sitting on a boulder for the past two weeks, steeping in misery.

 

_"The gods will punish you, Øystein."  
"....Ooookay?"_

 

"Then I can't help you. Sorry."

"You know, the entire point capturing you was because you were supposed to be useful." Spat Øystein as Per put down his favourite rune stone and brushed his long, blond hair out of the way. He sighed, "No, Øystein, you captured me because you mistook me for a woman capable of breeding you tall offsprings."

Øystein drew his sword, going red in the face as he pointed it at Per. "And I didn't kill you right away because you're supposed to be a shaman but you're useless as that too! What stops me from killing you now, huh?!"

Per didn't even flinch. "Because when I'm gone, you'll only have Varg, and Varg habitually tries to murder you."

Øystein made an uncomfortable grunting noise.

"If you're so curious, why don't you go see the Shaman living deep inside of the forest? He might know something that I don't."

"Because." Øystein sheathed his sword before mumbling out the rest, "They make me do things..."

"Things?"

"..... _things."_ Øystein blushed as Per decided he didn't want to know the finer details. Now that Jørn and Jan were at sea, it meant that Øystein and Per were left alone in each other's presence, which was the worst decision anyone could have made.

Both men stood there in awkward silence before Per scrambled up. "Huh?"

"They're here." He said, pushing past Øystein, who was left dumbstruck.

"Wait! What do you mean they're here?!" He cried before chasing after him.

 

_  
"Warm kitty, soft kitty...."_

"Shut up, Tomas."

_"Little ball of fur...sleepy kitty.."_

"It's annoying me too now, Tom. Please stop."

_"Happy kitty.. purr...purr... purr..."_

 

 

Being back on home soil was a total blur to say the least. Somehow, although unsurprisingly, Vegard managed to get a fever.

"You don't have to stay here." Vegard croaked as he lay in his bed. Tomas was sitting by his bedside, attempting to glare him into better health. "You might die." Tomas said bluntly. Ahh.. yes, there was that, although Vegard wasn't sure that telling him that his life was at risk was much of an encouragement.

"At worst, they'll cut off my arm." He murmured, even though that wasn't a very pleasant fate either.

"If they cut off your arm, then what?"

"Then nothing." Vegard shrugged.

"Without you, I have nobody." Tomas said coldly, as if he had the right to vilify Vegard for his goddamn _mortality._

"Don't say that..." He dismissed, looking at the ceiling. They were both unmarried, Vegard by choice and Tomas because his first wife ran off into the forest. Vegard did feel a bit sorry for him, some of the children even created a mythos around the 'Witch-Woman'. But rather than his legendary failed romantic relationships... Vegard was pretty dead-set on believing that it wasn't piss-poor luck that kept Tomas alone throughout all these years, it was his _stupidity._

Vegard looked over at him, seeing that he was still cross. If Tomas was going to be so anxious about being all alone, maybe he and Tomas could...?

_No._

No, they couldn't.

With a soft grunt, Vegard hoped that the healer would come and come soon at that.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegard has an infection, Tomas is besides himself and Bård is shitting bricks. Bad sex jokes and Norse Mythology courtesy of Per.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short exposition chapter! It'll pick up--promise!!

"Do you smell something in the air?" Ted asked with a peaceful tone, from his place on the ground. Gylve was in the midsts of forming an axe as Ted continued gazing up at the sky.

"Aside from our own filth and the seawater, nothing unusual. Why?" He asked as the metal turned bright red before he beat it into shape. "I feel something." Ted said, craning his head to look over at Gylve, who just shrugged and said: "Probably indigestion."

But Ted shook his head, opening his mouth to say, "No, this is something differ...."

He was cut off by the sounds of footsteps running through their hut. Gylve only had a second to think about how it was high time they finally invented a system against intruders when Bård came into view. "Gylve!" He screamed like a parrot, eyes big with fear.

"Yeah?"

He took a deep breath before shouting, "VEGARD'S ARM IS GROWING MUSHROOMS AND THE DOCTOR SAID WE HAVE TO HACK IT OFF!!"

Both men stopped dead, wondering if months at sea made Bård ill in the head. Er... iller, that is.. "....Growing _mushrooms?"_

They both looked at each other and thought that Vegard really ought to get the big Jarl title bestowed on his ass for spending months at sea with this crowd...

Meanwhile Øystein was arguing politics with the chieftain from the settlement over the mountains and Per? Per was sitting at the riverside with the other Vikings telling them all another story about how Loki fucked over the gods... again.

"And so Odin said," Per lowered his voice as all the filthy Vikings stopped from their showers to hear what came next in this great tale of heroic sacrifice and greater betrayal.

"'What if we let you get godnapped by a giant, how would you like them apples?!' And Loki merely responded with a snide, "Surely less than Idunn's golden ones ehurhurhurhurhur'." As they all roared with laughter. In the background, Varg wondered if innuendos about goddesses ass-cheeks technically counted as blasphemy.

  
_"TOMAS!!! IF HE DOESNT GET HIS ARM CUT OFF HE WILL DIE!"_

**Author's Note:**

> If anybody wants to suggest me something happening, especially for comedic effect, go for it


End file.
